The boy turned to his mother, his eyes wide but sincere, and whispered, “I have to protect him, Mom.”
The mother felt a chill run down her spine. “Protect him from what, sweetheart?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm despite the growing unease in her chest.
The boy hesitated, glancing back at his little brother, who remained peacefully asleep in his arms. “From the shadows,” he finally replied, his voice barely audible. “I see them sometimes, at night. They come closer and closer to his crib. But when I hold him, they go away.”
The mother was taken aback. Her mind raced with worry, wondering if her son was having nightmares or if there was something more sinister at play. She knelt beside him, wrapping her arms around both her boys, and whispered, “It’s okay, darling. You’re safe here. We’re all safe here.”
